"Fix?" Julia brushed her hair out of her eyes.
"Of course," the Georgias sang in unison.
"Now, let's look at both of you," Georgia A. said, pushing Nina closer to Julia. "Ladies, what do you think?"
Miss Georgia planted her hands on her nearly nonexistent hips and said, "Julia has been here longer, so more people have seen her. She will be harder to change."
"But little Nina is so perfect in that gown. Oh, it would be a pity to touch it," Georgia B. said, and Julia no longer thought she was the nice one. But then Georgia B. redeemed herself by saying, "Plus, I don't think that neckline does Julia justice. It should accentuate her stately shoulders and show her wonderful skin."
"Agreed," Miss Georgia said.
"Wait!" Julia held out a hand. "Caroline, did you know Nina is here with Jason?"
"Yes. He's already at the table. You should have seen the tension between him and Lance when I left—very National Geographic."
Now this I've got to see, Julia thought, but then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and immediately the dread came rushing back. "I can't walk out there in a different dress. That's going to be too weird."
"Has anyone seen you without the wrap, dear?" Georgia A. asked.
"Well, no," Julia had to concede.
The Georgias all seemed to exhale, and Miss Georgia started toward her. "It's settled then. A lot of women are wearing black dresses, darling. We'll simply reverse Nina's wrap and change your neckline," Miss Georgia said. Then she dumped her small bag onto the makeup vanity, and a whole beauty arsenal fell out.
Twenty minutes later, Julia emerged from the bathroom with a different neckline and an entirely new appreciation for what a former Miss Georgia could do with cuticle scissors and double-sided tape.
Lance watched the way the waiter cleared from the right and served from the left, the way he moved noiselessly, effortlessly between the seated couples, and he realized that this man was no actor-in-waiting; this man was a pro. Only decades of experience within the Sycamore Hills ballroom could give a man the fortitude he would need to keep an even expression on his face as Jason ordered.
"Bring me the pork with the steamed rice instead of the potatoes, and the vegetable medley instead of the salad, and coffee with skim milk, not cream. You getting this down?" Jason asked the man, who looked old enough to have been hired by Wally Willis himself.
Maybe it was Lance's imagination, but as the waiter turned, he thought the man might have given him a wink. Lance smiled, relieved to be among peers, glad for the chance to see things from that side of the table for a change, even if it did mean sitting across from Jason. At least he got to share the table with Julia.
One June, while working the wedding-reception circuit, Lance had developed a theory that there are two kinds of people in the world—the kind who say thank you when you refill their glass, and the kind who act as if the water has miraculously reappeared. Julia, Lance decided halfway through the meal, was a thanker. Each and every time someone refilled a glass or removed or placed a plate, Julia said "thank you" in the perfect volume, the perfect tone. He'd served a lot of people, but he'd never seen anyone hit a hundred percent—until Julia. When Julia said thank you for her salmon and Jason decided that his pork needed to go back to the kitchen, Lance realized that Julia James was his kind of woman.
"So, you're an actor, Lance," Jason said. "That's pretty unstable work."
Lance nodded and said, "It can be."
"I'm in sales. Top in my district, three years running."
So this is our game, Lance thought, deciding it was as good as any. After all, Lance couldn't see a basketball hoop anywhere, and the Sycamore Hills people probably wouldn't appreciate them arm wrestling near the good crystal. "Very impressive," Lance said, sliding his sarcasm directly under Jason's nose.
Jason gave an "aw, shucks" shrug of his shoulders. "Closing deals comes easier for me than most people. I visualize scoring—like in football. You play any ball, Lance?"
"No," Lance said, adjusting the napkin on his lap. "Not competitively."
"Oh, well, nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Someone's got to sit in the stands and cheer." Jason smiled. "Isn't that right, Tiny?" he asked, turning to Nina, who wore the grin of a game-show contestant who couldn't believe the parting gift was such a prize.
Is this the same woman who drove her VW on the shoulder of the road and passed a semi doing ninety? Lance wanted to ask. The look on Nina's face made him feel sick. The sight must have bothered Julia, too, because Lance felt her tense and ask, "So, Jason, how's the house hunting going?"
"Renting works fine for me," Jason said before taking a bite of the pork he'd finally accepted. "I'm keeping my options open."
"Yeah," Julia said. "I know how much you like your options."
Lance thought he could almost hear Julia thinking, But Nina is not for rent.
Next to Julia, Caroline put her fork down with a clank. "Have I told you about my new Swiffer? It's just amaz—"
"I'm not sure I really need to buy a place." Jason sliced through Caroline's words as if she didn't exist. He was holding Nina's hand, looking deeply into her eyes.
"Jason, it's a great time to buy," Julia exclaimed. "I hear Owasso is nice. Why don't you move to Owasso?"
"Has anybody seen the new Remington exhibit?" Caroline blurted. "I hear it's—"
"Owasso is completely on the other side of town!" Nina jumped in.
Caroline picked up the basket on the table and said, "Who wants bread?"
"I realize that," Julia said, glaring at her best friend. "The distance might be good. It might make it easier to move on" she finished, brandishing her fork until Lance covered her hand with his, hoping to stop her from leaning across the table and taking out one of Jason's eyes.
"Sunken treasure!" Caroline yelled, and everyone at three tables turned to her. "I saw the most interesting documentary about sunken treasure," she said, and spent the rest of the main course retelling it in detail without even pausing for breath until their plates were cleared and the emcee announced that people had just five minutes until the silent auction closed.